Sentimental
by crystalix
Summary: A missing scene from “Chosen”, told from Buffy’s POV.


Title: Sentimental

Author: crystalix

Rating: G

Summary: A missing scene from "Chosen", told from Buffy's POV.

Pairing: Buffy/Angel (implied)

Timeline: Chosen (just before they leave for Sunnydale High)

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon and co.

Distribution: Please ask first!

A/N: Inspired by "Fifteen Minute Fics", the word was "sentimental". Unfortunately, this fic took me close to a half-hour given that I kept changing the POV (which I edited, but it took up a lot of time) oops! But in the future I hope to actually accomplish writing a decent fic in 15 minutes!

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Sentimental

I've never pictured myself as the sentimental type. I mean sure, when I was young I would keep anything and everything to look back on "someday"; whether it was a small toy or a bottle-cap I found on the streets of LA, I would pick it up for no apparent reason, take it home, and put it in my little jewellery box, and to me it was as valuable as any jewels or diamonds I could have had.

But then one sunny afternoon at Hermey High school changed all that. No longer would I pick up that small sparkling penny on the ground, or hang onto old belongings. It was one of the many things that changed when I became the slayer, a part of me that was pushed aside for my duty. I didn't see the point in keeping things like that around anymore, since with the acceptance of the slayer, came the knowledge that there would most likely not be a "someday" for me.

I tried to keep that in mind as I trudged up to my room with the duffel bag in hand, the bare essentials- that's all I will need. Yet even as I said it, I had a nagging feeling in my gut, a small voice telling me that there when this is over, it will be one of two things standing. Me or Sunnydale. Either way, I wouldn't have the chance to step into this room ever again. Sunnydale is really where it all started, it makes sense that one way or another, it is where it will end.

I quickly scour my room for some specific belongings, starting with the usuals, the things you would pack if you were staying over at a friend's house. I open my closet and pull out a few of my favourite outfits, and just as I am about to close the door, I notice something. A small box lying on the floor, one that I had forgotten about for so long now. Entranced, I get down on my knees and open the box, memories flooding my mind as the things inside come into view. They are small things; things that most people would call pointless and insignificant, things that even today, I am unsure as to why I still have them.

First is a leather jacket, worn from the years it has accompanied me on patrol, yet still carrying the slight scent of it's previous owner. Next is a small box, inside is a small, silver, cross necklace; a simple yet beautiful ornament that has saved my life on more than one occation. My eyes fall upon a simple book of poetry, mud still stains its cover from the night that it was lost, I smile slightly as I remember rooting around for hours for it, refusing to wait until I was healed to look, I went out only hours after Quentin caught up with Giles and I in the library.

The bottom of the box is covered with small things, a four year old movie ticket, a Los Angeles PI's business card, a bracelet from my old Halloween costume, a hair clip, and buried under all the rubble, was something I had long forgotten was there, something that I had found on my pillow the night of my high school graduation. A small silver ring, a heart adorning its centre with a crown above it, surrounded by two hands. Tears well in my eyes as I remember the night I received this, the unbelievable love and trust that I haven't really felt since. My fingers gently caress its smooth planes, a sense of familiarity washing over me.

I look to the box in question, it isn't overly large, it would no doubt fit in the bag that I have packed. But it would take up unnecessary space, space that could be used for weapons for the battle ahead. Bringing them wouldn't help to change the outcome of the fight in our favour, nor would it save any of my comrades if the worst should come. My own words echoed in my mind "only bring the bare essentials, we're going to war- and we'll need all the weapons we can get". Sighing, I place the ring back into the box and close it, shoving my forgotten blouse into the still-empty bag, only a fool would be selfish enough to bring useless belongings like that.

A few minutes later, just as I'm about to zip the bag shut, an unexpected voice sounds from the doorway.

"Buffy?" turning, I see Willow peaking in my door. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah." I say quickly, giving her a bright smile.

She nods and heads down the stairs. Turning my attention back to my bag, I pull the zipper closed over the opening, and picking up the now over-stuffed bag, I follow my friend downstairs, a small sliver ring glinting on my finger as I go.

I guess I really am a sentimental fool after all.

But I'm no idiot. At least this way, I can die without any further regrets.

I'll go into battle an ever love struck woman instead of an unbeatable slayer; a sentimental fool instead of a selfless-warrior.

I suppress the girlish giggle within me, no- not just any sentimental fool.

_His_ sentimental fool.

The first doesn't stand a chance.

The End

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crystalix


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